


When It Fits (You Feel It)

by flickering_light612



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Texting, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flickering_light612/pseuds/flickering_light612
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire and Enjolras prepare to spend their first Valentine's Day together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When It Fits (You Feel It)

**Author's Note:**

> a short fan fic based on this JC Penney ad: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fgIGqz0wEO8  
> This is my first Les Mis fanfic and I promised myself that I wouldn't dare to write fanfiction for this fandom because I was sure it would end up horrible but as soon as I saw the JC Penney ad I knew I had to at least write this. Enjoy!

When It Fits (You Feel It)

 

Enjolras grimaced as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon. On most days he would be concerned by the amount of texts he was getting but today he knew exactly what, and who, it was. As the other members of the Amis moved and shifted after ended a long and heated conversation Enjolras leaned back and checked his phone discreetly under the table. He looked up and around the table at the others, hoping none of them saw that he of all people wasn’t paying attention to the meeting. They were supposed to be discussing an upcoming rally protesting treatment of the LGBT in Uganda but it was Valentine’s Day and no one, not even Enjolras was really putting themselves into the cause. 

In the past Enjolras would have scolded the others for being absent minded, after all he’d never cared that much for Valentine’s Day. Since he’d begun seeing (he preferred the word seeing to dating, it sounded less immature) Grantaire though he’d begun to realize the potential importance of the day. He’d gone from completely hating the consumer marketed holiday to tolerating it slightly thanks to Grantaire, who actively loved the holiday for some bizarre reason.

Enjolras quickly looked down as he scrolled through his messages until he reached the ones from Grantiare. The curly haired brunette had had an art presentation coming up soon and had chosen to go back into the studio to get some more work done. It was odd, Enjolras never realized how much he missed the nihilist until he wasn’t there. Any meeting without Grantiare felt somewhat empty and Enjolras was glad that he at least had messages from his boyfriend to keep him company. Even if the messages could be ridiculous.

As he looked through the countless photos Grantaire had sent him over the last few hours though Enjolras began to see that these were nothing like the usual texts he received. While those talked about everything from why fingers were fingers (“I mean, really Apollo. They’re just weird grabby things. Like tree branches made of flesh.”) to why the art school’s weaving program was terrifying (“This one girl got her hair stuck in a loom today and nearly got her fucking scalp torn off.”) these texts weren’t even really texts. They were more like what Enjolras believed snapchats were like. 

The first few were just of Grantaire as he went through the motions of getting up and getting ready to go to class. The next was one of him in the studio, flecks of gold and red paint stuck to his skin. (“Guess what I’m painting today?” the caption had read. Enjolras didn’t need to guess but he could feel his face flush as he thought of Grantaire painting him.) It was the next few that really made Enjolras smile though. By the time Grantiare had taken these he was back in their shared apartment and had washed up from earlier in the day.

The first of the apartment photos was simply of a candle, just about to be lit. There was no caption. The second photo was of Grantaire, wearing Enjolras’ red cooking apron, taking a selfie with a bottle of sparkling grape juice (He’d been sober for just over ten months now and had promised not to touch another drop. Seeing the non-alcoholic bottle made Enjolras’ stomach flip.) The next four photos were obviously shot in a quick succession. The first was of Grantaire holding a rose. The next was of him pointing, with the rose, to the kitchen table where two plates and a candle were laid out. The third was of a wrapped gift sitting on the couch, addressed to Apollo. 

The last one was the one that made Enjolras laugh out loud though. It was of Grantaire, holding the rose between his teeth, and pulling back the apron to reveal a pair of boxers the same colors as the French flag. If this image weren’t enough the text after simply read “The prize of France is in my pants xoxo –R” 

Enjolras didn’t even realize he had an audience until he heard Jehan speak from right behind him “I was hoping he’d use a bit more tact…” The poet said, making Enjolras jump. He looked up to see the poet grinning at him, giving him a look that clearly said he knew what Grantaire was planning. “What’s got our fearless leader so captivated?” Bossuet asked, leaning over to try and look at his friend’s phone. Enjolras leaned away from his friend though, shaking his head before pocketing his phone. “Nothing… I’ve just…. I’ve got to go… do stuff…. We’ll meet up again next week, yeah?” He asked quickly as he stood up and threw his bag across his shoulder.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s in a hurry. Going home to someone, are you?” Courfeyrac joked knowingly. While Enjolras and Grantaire had never officially come out as dating it was a known fact among most, if not all of their friends that they were together. “Enjay is about to get laid.” Eponine called out from across the room, winking over at Enjolras and making him blush. “Shut up Ponine.” He called out as he crossed the room and opened the door. “Wooo. Get some Enjolras!” He heard someone (it sounded suspiciously like Feuilly) shout as he exited the room and made his way out into the hall.

Well, you always said I would go for France before pants. Ps. I’m on my way home. Enjolras replied as he stepped out of the building and made his way off campus, suddenly feeling ten times more excited about Valentine’s Day than he ever had before.


End file.
